Dramione Drabbles
by Eirawen
Summary: A collection of drabbles within which you can read singularly or, most often, altogether as a whole. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

"That smarmy, good for nothing, son of a bitch, dickhead in the membrane, nincompoop, tweerpy little ferret!" Hermione cursed aloud as she stared at the stick in her hands. She shook it, hoping it was wrong, but the purple dot remained.

Someone was going _to die._

_

* * *

_

A loud bang, followed by a never ending crash echoed form the foyer of the finest restaurant in Diagon Alley, startling its finest diners from their fancy dinners. Draco turned away from his date as the sound of loud voices, one angry and feminine, the other pleading and male argued back and forth, yet at the same time coming closer to the dining room. The voice of the maitre d' called out one final "Please!" before someone appeared in the doorway, appearing extremely angry and beautiful all at once. Diner's stopped their conversations to peer at the unexpected evening interruption and frown in dismay.

Draco was surprised to see Granger, not just with the attention gathering and rude entrance, but looking like she did. Her fists were clenched and her hair was no longer the silky tamed mass he'd known it to be last time he'd seen her. In fact, her hair looked wild and stressed out. Fury emanated from her body, her eye's narrowing in anger as they peered around the room, searching each table, while her lips pulled and pouted into a horribly thin line creating a look that promised hell to whomever she was searching for. She looked like one cranky lioness on a short leash, anger barely contained and ready to spill over at the slightest prompt.

Suddenly she was moving, striding with angry grace amongst the many tables, skirting patrons and lone chairs in her path as she moved across the room, unconcerned with the fact that she held everyone's attention.

Draco glanced down to search for his drink, wanting a liquid to go with the show that was about to start and when he looked up again, cognac in hand, Granger, in all her gloriously angry beauty, stood before him.

"We need to talk." She seethed out, her arms clenching by her sides once more.

Draco managed a quick look at his date to see that she had shrunk back into her seat at the arrival of the furious lion before them. She was attempting a pitiful move of trying to make her skinny arse self blend into the furniture.

Draco glanced behind the angry woman to his fellow diner's who where watching with unabashed interest and curiosity. No one seemed to be paying attention to the food on their plates, even the waiters had stopped in the tracks, still holding trays laden down with new and dirty dishes or drinks.

"Granger, unless you haven't noticed, I'm currently on a date and hence, busy."

Draco said smoothly, his voice low enough to make it clear that her intrusion wasn't appreciated and not allow fellow diners an in on the conversation.

Hermione let out a low, almost hysterical chuckle. "I have and I don't care. We need to talk now and we need to do it privately."

Draco held the gaze of the furious lioness before he looked away towards his date and took a sip of his drink nonchalantly. "Later Granger. Arrange a meeting with my secretary for tomorrow morning if it's that important." He said lazily.

Draco watched as she visibly tried to restrain herself. Her body quivered and her face tilted that much more.

Then, without further ado, she grabbed his arm and yanked him up out of the chair. Being so roughly and unexpectedly pulled in the wrong and awkward direction sent his chair falling over backwards and the glass in his hand falling to the floor.

"Listen here you smarmy little ferret." She hissed, her voice carrying to the nearest tables only. She dropped her hold on his arm and raised her left hand in a shocking and dead on punch to the shoulder. Draco stepped back with the shock of being hit by Granger, totally unprepared for a punch from the usually calm Gryffindor. "Because of you; right, you, the pureblood supremely stuck up Malfoy of high wizarding society…" Hermione let her voice drift as she watched Draco's eyebrow lift into an expectant and supremely smug expression. She socked him again in the stomach and while he was bent over, winded from the strength of her punch, she raised her knee and aimed for the money maker…or baby maker.

A groan was her answer as well as a few sympathy hisses and whispers from the diners, still enthralled with the scene before them.

"Maybe that'll make you think with your other head next time you try sticking that rod where the sun don't shine. I'm pregnant you dickwad and it's all your bloody fault!" Hermione screamed.

In the stunned silence that followed, both from diners and Draco, Hermione turned on her heel and strode out of the room, ignoring looks of shock and horror from the high society bigoted women and the scared resultant looked from the men in the room.

It was difficult to say which shocked the many people in the room more. For one thing, they'd just witnessed one member of the famous Golden Trio lose their cool in front of the public and the most calm and logical one at that. Hermione Granger was never known to raise her voice, swear or physically assault a person and yet in one evening, in five short minutes, the patrons of Le Cygne had witnessed history. To make things much more interesting, a well-known pureblood had slept with a mud-_muggleborn_ and now they were expecting a child. And the point which made the many gossipmongers in the room even more excited with anticipation, Miss Granger didn't appear to like that idea. At all.

* * *

Hermione paced back and forth across her living room, her mouth twisting and turning as she muttered obscenities under her breath at one Draco Malfoy, father of her unborn child. She'd gone through her pensieve to recall exactly what had gone wrong, half certain they had used a contraception charm before their one night of bliss. The memory was blurred somewhat from the amount of alcohol she'd had at the celebration for the new Minister for Magic Myer Kingston, the first female Minister for Magic. Hermione had been a close friend of Myer's since she'd meet her randomly in Flourish and Botts, scrambling to buy the last copy of _Hogwarts, A History's_ latest edition. After a tug of war (where Hermione eventually triumphed) they'd become best friends quick.

So of course she was there to cheer on her friend as she was voted in for Minister of Magic. And then stayed longer, surrounded by alcohol and guys who continually hit on her. She wasn't interested, and it was only as she was leaving that Hermione had run into Draco and he'd used her as a line of defence against the woman who he'd brought as a date to the party and had suddenly become clingy. They'd disappeared…_miraculously_ back to his apartment _somehow_ and done the one plus one tango, horizontal folk dance, party in the bedroom; however you would call it; mating dance.

And hadn't seen each other since.

So Hermione had recalled her memory, examined it from every angle (_literally_) and found the faux-pas in the whole contraceptive issue.

Malfoy had pronounced the words _contra pre natus_, slurring them under the influence of alcohol. Hermione remembered only one warning that went along with the contraception charm, a charm that every witch and wizard learnt during his or her teens and that was _Do. Not. In any way. Mispronounce. The Words_.

It had been drilled into them for a whole period and the only way they could have escaped the hell of that period was to be able to pronounce the charm correctly and repeatedly.

Hermione had seen herself in the memory reaching out to her wand to perform the spell herself but Draco had knocked her hands away and said he'd do it instead. He did and well, she was too busy moaning to hear him say it correctly, or as the case was, incorrectly.

A loud consistent banging interrupted her thinking and had her grimly smiling in the knowledge that Draco had finally arrived. Moving towards the door, she passed the kitchen bench and picked up an apple that lay resting in the fruit bowl. Scanning it for any blemishes, she took a bite as she slowly wondered towards the door.

The banging only persisted and it was a few minutes before Hermione finally deigned to open the door to a very irritated Draco Malfoy.

She leaned nonchalantly against the doorjamb and took another bite of her apple as she studied the sight in front of her. Draco was something to behold in this fractious, angry and infuriated state, all three emotions coming together to form one very, very unstable man. His steel grey eyes chilled as they fell upon her before he brushed past her into her decent sized apartment. He strode past her, into her living room and turned around to face her, his gaze settling solidly on her form, glancing once down at her abdomen.

Hermione remained in the doorway, leaning against it as she finished off her apple, her face carefully calm.

Silence reigned in the apartment, each looking at the other, one fuming and the other silently awaiting the inevitable outburst that was surely to come.

It did, not even a minute later.

"Who-, no." He paused, as if thinking better of his sentence and train of thought and changed his mind. "Your pregnant?" he asked, his voice eerily calm for the air about him. Something, Hermione knew was absolutely a sure sign that this man was really trying to control the fury that bubbled below the surface.

"Someone mispronounced the contraceptive charm." She stated a-matter-of-factly, adding a pointed look to get across the seriousness of the situation and the person on which the blame would thereby lay. With a slight sniff of distaste towards his stupidity, she finally shut the door and moved to stand across the room from Draco.

"_I_ did?" He asked with the tone of incredulity, raising his hand to point towards himself as if the very thought of blame could not possibly be associated nor placed upon his very head. "For such a know-it-all, always right and perfect; you should know it took two to tango, what about your fault in all of this?"

"What?" Hermione asked, the hand holding the apple dropping to her side as she straightened indignantly. "My fault? If I recall, the problem of contraception fell solely in your hands. You wouldn't even allow me to reach for my wand to cast the charm. You knocked my hand away and said you would do it yourself."

Draco looked as if he was about to refute her claim, his mouth opened as if to do so but just in time, he closed it.

Clearly he was at a loss as to what he was going to say about this whole…_ordeal_. So Hermione stepped back into the short hallway and went to dispose of her apple core, careless of the fact that Draco Malfoy remained uncertain, unsure and still extremely furious in the middle of her living room. In fact she was over this whole deal of 'finding out' and 'working out' what they both were going to do about the situation they'd found themselves in. Personally she'd had the whole day to deal with the new situation she'd found herself in, she was pregnant and would have a baby to care for in another seven months. While not at the appropriate and designated time in her life (really by now she should be swinging up the proverbial ladder rungs on her career and sitting comfortably on a rung near the top), she was half way through her set career path and most definitely not attached to the father of her child in any way shape or form.

But she was pregnant, to her first child and whether by accident or on purpose, she was going to love and cherish her first child.

She would adjust her mind set, change her focus from her career to the financial and living security of her baby and she and her child would live comfortably and be well loved.

She'd been angry when she'd found out she was pregnant, yes. But she'd been angry at Draco (her last sexual partner, not that she was free and liberal with her sexual partners mind you) for not casting the charm properly, for knocking her hand away and taking 'responsibility' for the charm. For not saying it properly, for avoiding/making it difficult to contact him all day, for thinking he could just walk away the morning after…

But she'd gotten over it once she'd finally told him, finally had the pleasure of causing his precious image and reputation damage. It was like her anger had been sucked out of her, replaced with the smug pleasure of stunning the most unshakable man she'd ever met.

"So, now that you know you got me pregnant and will have a child through me in another seven months time, you can leave." Hermione said smoothly, as she moved back into the living room where Draco had remained.

Her words must have snapped him out of whatever daze he'd gone into, because suddenly he was charging forward, stopping just short of herself.

"I hope you don't expect me to play the invisible father roll in this child's life, because if you do Granger, then you've got another thing coming. That child shares my DNA, my blood and by Merlin he will know his father, his family and be given everything a Malfoy deserves."

Hermione was silently relieved that he had taken her word for the truth and hadn't called her a liar. She wasn't; this baby she carried was by far and wide Draco's without a single tiny percent of a doubt. Instead, what put her hackles up was the ideas or life path per say, that Draco was suddenly pushing on their child.

"My child will not grow up in a family like yours without me around to negate the teachings I have no doubt your family will gladly instil upon her. She will grow up with me. I will allow you visitation any time you want, but I plan to have sole legal custody considering I am the one that will be carrying this child and eventually giving birth to her. I heard the rumours and later, the recollections of what went on in your childhood, how you were treated by your parents and I will in no way allow my daughter to be subjected to that treatment by any of her relatives regardless of how high and mighty they think they are or how much more they can offer her. I too have a nest egg for my offspring which I will use to give my daughter the best of the best while maintaining a grounding of character. I do not want to have a spoiled, stuck up, arrogant and spiteful child on my hands rivaling the likes of you in our days of Hogwarts."

It was a rather large declaration of how things were going to go, but Hermione was satisfied that she'd gotten her point across. She was not going to let her daughter come into consistent contact with the likes of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy no matter how much they proclaimed to the public they'd changed. She'd been at their mercy once before, she'd seen the results of their methods of parenting, their social circles and she was by far-

"Do not insinuate such slander against the names of my parents. They went through just as much as everyone else did in the war, if not more. My father has paid dearly for his choices and both my parents wish to firmly put the past behind them. Yes I may not have had the greatest nor easiest upbringing in the world but what do expect of a family that held close ties for a while with the most vilest and cruelest man in all wizarding history. Torture and killings were among some of the sights that most of us children witnessed due to their parent's social circles and I know first hand and with a vehemence that I will not in anyway subject any child to that loss of innocence, let alone my own. I vowed early on that I would bring up my own child with a stronger sense of morals and justice than what was developed in me by my parents. In fact Granger," here his scowl and thunderously dark look lightened most perceptively into that trademark smirk of his. "I think a Gryffindor like yourself would be most proud."

Hermione was at a loss of what to say.

Really, she hadn't expected that. Not the defence of his parents as that was more a sign of loyalty, but the idea that he'd raise his child with Gryffindor morals…?

Silence lingered in the room as each processed what had been said so far.

"I think we each need to sit down and hash out what is going to happen between us." Draco said eventually, his confidence slowly ebbing from him, giving Hermione the impression that he was determined to get his own way.

"And how are we going to do that. We each are determined to live out our plans in regards to our daughter."

"Son." Draco corrected automatically.

"Daughter."

"Son."

"Daughter."

The idea of a civilized conversation to discuss the issue of how they would raise their child quickly disappeared as their tempers once again escalated while they heatedly argued whether their child was actually doing to be a girl.

"Son!"


	2. Chapter 2

In the dead of the night, the terribly consistent sound of a baby's heart felt retching cries and screams seemed to ring frighteningly. It had been like this since ten pm for the past six nights, and now, as Hermione watched her living room clock tick over to four thirty the next morning, once again, she struggled to hold back a sob of hysteria. Baby Selene had been like this for the last six days…and nights and Hermione was at the end of her tether.

After the quick, impromptu visit to the pediatrician, Hermione had come away with the unhelpful knowledge that her darling daughter had a combination of cutting her first tooth, a cold (which Hermione suspected she'd caught off that silly bint's daughter, Lavender Jr. at the playgroup she attended regularly) and missed her beloved daddy. Hermione had secured the medication for the cold, the gel and gummy toy for the tooth but couldn't find a temporary, even slightly relieving solution for the last problem.

And so, morning, noon and night, Selene had cried herself to sleep. Literally.

She'd wake up after an hours sleep and cry her little body to sleep three to five hours later even as Hermione hopelessly struggled to feed, bath and change the terribly upset child. Relief had been brief during the days, when somehow, thank Merlin, Selene slept a short time of the afternoons away, leaving Hermione to literally crash onto the bed and pay back the large sleep debt she was rapidly building up. When Selene had started crying again, the whole ordeal was repeated over and over again, with a consistency in being up nearly all night. Hermione had medicated the poor child and the symptoms and pain of the cold had seemed to have dissipated slightly, the tooth starting to slowly and painfully emerge and the daddy still nowhere in sight.

Hermione was lost. Completely and utterly lost. She didn't know what day it was, only vaguely knew whether it was day or night by the lack of natural light, hadn't properly eaten, hadn't properly showered…She was slowly loosing her sanity and to her poor baby girl whom she couldn't help with the pain.

For once in her life Hermione felt completely helpless. She'd done all she could and yet still the problem remained. She'd tried the WWMD? (What Would Molly Do?) approach, seeing as Molly and Arthur were currently on an extended trip around the world but she'd found it hard, from the lack of sleep to even concentrate long enough to put herself in the mindset of one fabulous, Molly Weasley.

Tears blurring her eyes, she rocked her baby backwards and forwards, rubbing her back soothingly and humming whatever tune she was humming. Selene continued to kick angrily, small fists clenching and unclenching, accidentally or not, gripping Hermione's hair, necklace or pajama top fiercely and pulling horrendously. She buried her face in her mother's neck, rubbing it wet with her saliva, sweat and tears before pulling back to look up at her mother in desperation. Why couldn't mummy help sooth the pain?

"Please sweetie. I know it hurts, but mummy's in a lot of pain too." Merlin did her nipples ache from the fact that Selene had begun to use them as a replacement gummy ring. Her head was pounding like a rampaging herd of Hippogriffs were on the loose and her body felt like a ton of lead. "Please…baby go to sleep. I need to sleep…you need to sleep. We'll both feel a lot better once we've both had nice long naps…" Hermione breathlessly pleaded to her daughter. "Please Selene…please…Mummy just wants to sleep." Tears clogged up her throat, her voice rough and croaky. Hermione was close to breaking point and the very idea that she was, because of her beautiful daughter, hurt her even more. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was letting her daughter down by being so…

"Ohh!" The tears poured, the lump in her throat collapsed, as did her legs and she fell onto the floor, baby still cradled in her arms. She sobbed into her daughter's body, so scared, exhausted, worried and for once in her life unprepared, uncertain of how to solve things. She let it pour out, her strength failing her as she tried desperately to calm herself, to calm her beloved daughter and gain control of the situation.

A heavy hand placed itself on her shoulder, startling Hermione. Before she could blink and move, Selene had been pulled out of her arms. Blankly, she stared up at her baby's daddy, the man who was supposed to still be in the US for another three days as he rocked his daughter. Holding out a hand he gave Hermione the strength to pull herself up off the ground; the strength to carry on.

"Go to bed. I'll take care of her." He told her softly, lovingly; those beautiful grey eyes reassuring her, telling her everything was going to be all right.

Too tired to reply with even a slight nod, Hermione turned and left the already calming Selene to her beloved daddy, the only person who seemed to have the real magic with putting a stubborn Selene to sleep. Even as Hermione entered their room, she vaguely registered the silence of the house before she fell into the darkness.

* * *

Drowsiness wasn't something Hermione expected when her brain fired up the next time she gained consciousness. Slowly, she managed to lift herself vertical and stare groggily around. She found herself under the bed covers, a simple t-shirt from the depths of Draco's wardrobe her only clothing apart from her underwear. She raised her hand to wearily rub the sleep from her eyes, acknowledging that Draco had changed her out of her clothes. When she glanced down at the clock on the bedside she discovered it was morning and even as she considered the time, her mind kicked in completely with her list of daily requirements and Selene's schedule.

A frown creased her forehead as she realised it was time for her mid morning feed.

She should be crying right now.

Automatically she reached out for the baby monitor to check it was on, only to have her hand grasp uselessly at air.

Slowly she turned to check what her hand had already revealed. The baby monitor wasn't on the bedside table and when she looked across at the dresser, the table by the rocking chair and peering into the bathroom she found it wasn't in the room.

Confused and slightly worried, Hermione got out of bed and left the room in search of her daughter and father.

The house was quiet for feeding time and after a further search of Selene's room, the lounge and study, Hermione walked into the kitchen and came to a halt.

In the eating nook, taking in the full blast of the warm morning sun, Draco lounged on the seat built into the wall, his feet kicked up on a padded stool, quietly reading the morning Prophet.

On his chest, resting peacefully, small delicate hand clutching his shirt, Selene lay, her daddy's hand resting comfortingly on her back. Her head was tucked up under her father's chin, her soft blue-grey eyes calmly peering round the room in the curiously interested manner all babies had, but most importantly, she was peacefully quiet.

The image of father and daughter, bathed in warm sunlight on a quiet morning, was adorably beautiful. Her heart was simultaneously warmed and soothed by the sight, her past week disappearing rapidly like feathers in the wind. Her worries washed away, her earlier drowsiness and stress fading fast.

Something had Draco looking up from the newspaper. At the sight of Hermione standing in the doorway, he smiled softly, the hand on his daughter's back patted her gently twice to garner their daughter's attention on her mother.

"Hey." She said quietly.

"Sleeping beauty awakes." Draco grinned, lifting his feet up off the stood and straightening in the chair. Selene raised her head off of Draco's chest, an almost identical grin alighting her face as she greeted her mother with a cheery gurgling sound.

Hermione crossed the room, one hand rubbing through her tangled locks. "I feel like I've been sleeping for days." She murmured, bending down and placing a kiss on Selene's head and then again on Draco's lips, lingering a moment as she enjoyed the contact.

"Try two days." Draco corrected.

"Two?" Hermione asked shocked as she straightened, originally thinking she'd only been asleep the one night. "So what have you done with Selene? What did you feed her with? Didn't she cry-"

Draco stood and place a finger at her lips, effectively silencing her. His smug smirk was in place as he informed her of what she already knew. "Hermione, we both know she'd a daddy's girl through and through."

Between them, Selene struggled to turn around and reach out for her mother. Swiftly, Draco transferred her to her mother.

"Hey honey, feeling better now that Daddy's home?" she cooed, hugging her daughter tight to her body. Now that each had had a good nights sleep and one had her daddy back, they were both on pleasantly good terms.

Draco studied the interaction between them. Slowly he reached up and brushed Hermione's hair back behind her ear. "Next time she's giving you that much trouble call me immediately; I don't care where or whom I'm with, ok?"

Hermione nodded immediately, not ever wanting to put her daughter in that position again: hurting and with only a useless mother at hand.

Clearly reading her, Draco quickly added: "And don't think you're a failure. You're not. You did everything you possibly could even under extreme stress and exhaustion."

Eventually, albeit a little reluctantly, Hermione nodded once more.

He let out a sigh of relief and something else. Spreading out his arms he brought both his girls into his hold, allowing Hermione to rest her weary head on his shoulder, their baby girl tucked between them.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered.

"I love you." Draco returned.

* * *

**Quick Note:** I have no children of my own so i can't particularly say if this could be a common occurrence or not. (Though from the reports from my cousin -yes) I just wanted to portray a scene in which Hermione actually cracks, falls to the ground, her strength to carry on withering away until Draco appears and she does have the strength because he is there with her. Its a sort of gather strength from your loved ones type of story/theme.


	3. Chapter 3

The lone light at the end of the dank dark corridor flickered irritatingly in time with the clipped, fast clap of heeled boots as the female Auror drew closer. At the very end of the corridor two opposite recesses widened the width of the floor, yet the flickering light seemed ineffective in lighting them. Its light did however, manage to highlight the frame of a black metal door set into the wall exactly at the end of the long tiled passageway. The female Auror reached the end and drew to a halt, her eyes remaining on the heavy metal door before her, expectation rife in her eyes.

"Unlock the door please." Her voice demanded without hesitation, exuding authority. Out of the dark shadows on either side of her, two burly men stepped into the ring of light, their thick arms crossed over their chest, their wands held tightly in their top hand, ready for a anything. They both wore dark cloaks, the hoods draw up to shadow their faces.

"Name and authentication." Came the dull voice of the man on her right.

"You know who I am Dawles and you know why I'm here." She snapped back irritably, her foot now tapping impatiently as an outlet for her building energy and anticipation for what awaited her in the room beyond.

"I know Granger, but for security's sake…" Dawles let the sentence go, knowing she would be obliged to answer regardless of the fact that everyone knew who Hermione Granger was and looked like. Unfortunately with polyjuice potions easily bought these days on the black market (sometimes a few of those potions did too go awry), security measures were becoming tougher than ever considering that with just a hair of a person, anyone could be imitated and made an exact replica of.

Hermione let out a large irritated sigh. "Hermione Jean Granger. Auror 9108#. Code: Alpha, Omega, 7, 9, 12, Sigma. You have in there a Most Wanted, High Security Felon and I am going in to question him. Happy Dawles? Edgecomb?" She finished with a twisted of her head and a tug at her lips. "By the way Dawles, you can let Marietta know that I'll have to reschedule our girl's day on Monday. It'll have to be moved to the end of the week." Hermione added as an extra fact to prove it was indeed herself and not some polyjuiced imposter.

The only sign of acknowledgement was a slight tilt to Dawles head before he shot a look back towards his partner across the top of the Hermione's head. They both nodded once and turned simultaneously towards the door. Each guard held out his wand and ran the tips of his weapon and personal instrument of power down the seams of either side of the door. Their magic was wordless, spoken within their minds to assure security and Hermione held confidence in the fact that all Aurors went through strict and rigorous training and practicing regimes to accurately learn and exercise continually through out their duty filled lives. Before her the door shuddered open, hinges appearing on the left hand side, Edgecomb's side and allowed the door to swing. The two guards stepped back to allow Hermione entrance into the room, the heavy door swinging shut with a resounding thud.

The room within was almost as dark and dank as the passageway outside. The dark tile décor continued, only this time it continued up the walls of the small 3 meter squared room. Two silvery orbs for surveillance bobbed in opposing corners of the room, for both a visual and audio recording of the interrogation. The only pieces of furniture within the room were a metal table and chair, both bolted down to the floor. The chair, tucked on the opposite side of the table from where Hermione stood at the entrance off the room, held the prisoner whom she had eagerly and viciously hunted down over the past three months. To see him cuffed down to the arms of the chair brought a vindictive sense of smugness to Hermione and she displayed that to him with a sly tilt to the head and a victorious smirk akin to the trademark smirk that her captive was known for.

"Oh how the mighty have fallen." She proclaimed proudly, crossing her arms and leaning back against the closed door.

"Really Granger? You've chased me across Europe for months and the best opening line you can come up with when you finally do capture me is: 'Oh how the mighty have fallen?'" The bleach blonde head raised to display stormy grey eyes filled with mocking laughter. The laughter was accompanied by a taunting smirk pasted across his lips.

Hermione didn't let her face slip. The barb was let to slide over her head and be forgotten. What was more important to her was the fact that she had made the biggest capture of her Auror career (more so since it had been _her_ and not the other ten Aurors put on this case over the last year), capturing Draco Malfoy.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy you are charged with the murders of Caprice DeLionzo, Mary Ashmore, Ryder Marlesing and Amelie Cathburt; resisting arrest on multiple accounts and physically assaulting an Auror in the process of arresting you. How do you plead?" As Hermione had already read Draco his rights upon his arrest in a small town north of the Romanian capital, she was geared and ready – by legal standards – to dive right into her interrogation.

He shot her a pointed look, amusement rife in his eyes. "Not guilty."

She'd been expecting that. After all, he wouldn't have so determinedly eluded the Aurors sent to arrest him for so long if he was going to make things easy.

"Malfoy we have witnesses that place you at the scene of both Caprice DeLionzo and Ryder Marlesing's murders. Furthermore strong evidence found amongst the body's of Mary Ashmore and Amelie Cathburt once again places you at the scene of the crime, at the time of death." Here she reached into her inner cloak pocket and pulled out a minimized file. With a wave of her hand it enlarged as she threw it down, open, onto the table before him. Hideous photos of the four women in various positions, covered in blood met his eyes. Each woman had been photographed, the images moving slowly as wizard photographs did over the bodies, capturing the gruesome details such as the knife lodged deep into the chest of each of the women, directly between their breasts, the arms bound behind their backs, their clothing stripped and torn in various ways. "Lets face it Malfoy, you are now looking at a one way ticket into the arms of a Dementor."

He scoffed and leaned back as far as he could into his chair comfortably, ignoring the graphic photos on display in front of him. "And you and I both know that while the Ministry may want criminals to think differently, Dementors are no longer used; ergo the "kiss" you're threatening me with is really a life time's stay in a cosy cold cell much like this one…only in Azkaban for the rest of my natural life."

Hermione sighed tiredly, knowing this was going to take a while. "Malfoy, if you can prove now, without a shadow of a doubt your innocence in these four murders, you better start talking. The only reason you're even in this cell at the moment and not on your way straight to Azkaban without a hearing is because we currently don't have enough numbers to securely transport you."

"And because you believe firmly in a fair go, no matter who the victim of wizarding law." Draco finished with a roll of his eyes.

The interrogation went on for another few hours, back and forth, back and forth in a repetitive circle that had her consistently winding up at square one. He gave no correct, no viable response for his defence, driving Hermione up the wall in annoyance. She'd asked questions that would force him to explain directly his side of the story, but the only response she seemed to get from him was either the usual verbal sparring or a line that would lead them directly back to the start of their conversation.

Three hours…and she had nothing to show for it.

Walking around the table, Hermione drew a halt directly behind him. "If you want to save that precious behind of yours Malfoy, now is your only chance. Cut the bullshit and either confess your guilt or prove your innocence because tomorrow your going straight to Azkaban for the rest of your life."

A chuckled burst up from the man in front of her. "Been thinking about my behind have we Granger?"

Letting out a growl of frustration, Hermione slammed her hands down on his, grasping them harshly in her own to capture his full attention, her head coming to drop so that her mouth hovered near his ear.

"You may think this is a joke Malfoy, but there are four innocent women dead because of you. You should have been rotting away in Azkaban right now instead of trying to run away from the inevitable future which has faced you since the very moment you plunged the knife into the body of Caprice. You're done Malfoy. Done. Say goodbye to the life you once knew." She hissed into his ear before she straightened up and walked around the table to the door. She knocked once and waited for the guards outside to open up. They did so and Hermione left the room without a backwards glance.

* * *

The bedroom window was wide open to allow for the soft breeze to penetrate the stuffy room. With the curtains wide back the moon was unobscured in its reach across the room and the bed that lay in it's path. The body on top of the bed, strangled in the sheets after tossing and turning for hours, now lie still under the touch of moonlight.

A shadow disfigured the direct light through the window. A figure appeared on the ledge, peering around to room to ascertain its security and safety for himself.

A short moment later and the male figure jumped down off the window sill and into the room, quietly heading towards the bed and the lone female resting atop it.

Hermione felt the bed dip behind her and the weight of a second body press down on the mattress even in her sleep. She breathed in deep, her mind waking sharply even as it recognised the scent that came with the body.

"You're late." She muttered groggily through her sleep. An arm came around her waist and she was drawn back into the hard body of the intruder. She snuggled further into his warmth, grasping his hand and pulling it tighter around her. He said something in return but Hermione had already returned to unconsciousness.

* * *

Hermione flooed into the grand foyer of the Ministry and had barely taken a step before she was mobbed. Flashes went off before her eyes as she took a startled step back, voices shouted at her different questions, different voices.

"What is going on here?" She asked, shielding her eyes from the violent flashes that persisted in going off.

"Miss Granger, Miss Granger!" came one voice over the din, a voice Hermione recognised to be Parvati Patil's. Frowning, Hermione managed to make out the woman through the flashes, the rest of the voices, questions thrown her way drowned out as she listened intently to those from the mouth of the woman's she recognised.

"Miss Granger what is your response to the news that the most wanted and recently capture felon Draco Malfoy has escaped from Ministry holding just this morning?"

Shock, horror and embarrassment coalesced over her, followed swiftly by fury. The mob of rabid journalists smelt her shock and pressed in on the fact that she had not been informed of this development. Just a quickly, Hermione pressed back, moving to surge between the mob, making her way to the elevators located on the far side of the hall. The distance suddenly seemed horrendously far when surrounded by all the journalists and it only made Hermione more determined to achieve her own escape and start working out whether the reporters questions had any basis of truth.

Yet before she reached the lifts, the last fireplace before the fountain burst into brilliant green and Harry stepped out of the flames. He spotted her almost immediately, his face a mask of steeliness and determination to deal with the problem. He grabbed her hand as she approached and lead her the rest of the way to the lifts.

"Is it true?" Hermione asked irritably, a frown marring her face. Harry nodded minutely, determined himself not to give away too much information with reporters right behind; watching them both with the eyes of hawks. "I just got the call myself. So far they cannot work out exactly when Malfoy got out, but they think it was in the last few hours."

"You there." Hermione exclaimed, taking charge of the situation and calling for the guard standing by the lifts. He looked expectantly at her in response.

"I want guards down here to over see all lifts, I do not want anyone getting in or out. If a Ministry worker is coming in, ask for identification. No reporters, no visitors, no nothing. I want this place locked down and guards on alert."

The guard nodded, visibly paling under the uproar that followed Hermione's order from the crowd of journalists behind her.

Ignoring them, Hermione pushed Harry into the open lift and closed the door, glad to escape the media frenzy.

* * *

A/N: Ok, this was originally intended to be an actual story, but i can't seem to work out the plot completely nor gather the motivation to write it t the moment. Maybe a bit of inspiration or ideas would work? Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

"'Mione." A soft voice cooed into her ear, disturbing her from her short slumber. Irritably she swatted half-heartedly at the source of interruption, smacking him right on the face.

"Hey!" He cried, snapping back. But he remained persistent, coming back to lightly shake her. "'Mione wake up." He whined.

"Go 'way." She murmured as she rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. It felt like she'd only just fallen asleep and with one quick groggy peep at the clock on her bedside table she really just had. 20 minutes exactly.

Hermione had been working round the clock at the ministry lately to help bring in a new law for werewolves and the wolfsbane potion, making the potion cheaper and a necessary stock at all apothecaries across the United Kingdom. It had been after midnight when she'd stumbled into bed and she needed to be up at five thirty this morning to get ready and arrive early at work for the moment she and her entire group had been working for, the meeting that would see their bill made law.

And now…irritatingly, Draco wanted her awake for some ungodly reason.

"'Mione please…" he whined. And Hermione knew that whine, that tone, that way that he let her name drift off. Draco only whined when he really wanted something but he knew he'd be pushing things just to get it.

She sighed and turned back over to face the annoying blonde, opening her eyes slightly and giving him the best glare she could manage while exceedingly tired.

"What?"

"I'm horny." He whined like the child he was. And he pouted.

Seriously. He pouted; stuck out his bottom lip and made his eyes as pleading as possible.

Hermione's eyes narrowed angrily, but she was too tired to allow this imbecile any more of her unneeded consciousness at the moment. She wanted sleep and to yell at him would waste the precious little time she had for it. So with a huff, she rolled over and buried her head under her pillow once more.

Poke.

Poke.

_Poke._

Why, oh why did she have to put up with this? She wanted to sleep, she craved it like an addict craves a drug and here she was, with few precious free hours to sleep in and she was being poked into retaining her consciousness, a place she had no desire whatsoever to be at the moment.

And the pokes weren't nice either. They were slow, they pushed as deep into the skin as they could go. Performed with the tip of the finger, the prodding lasted long and mean.

"Jesus Christ Draco!" She exploded, snapping up to a seated position, her hair an angry mass around her head, her eyes narrowed dangerously, her cheeks marred by the wrinkles in her linen. "Piss off!"

He stared at her. Watched her quietly for a moment as if assessing her and the possible reactions he might get out of her from the numerous actions he could possibly perform at the moment.

"I know something that will settle this matter." He told her, an impish smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

She stared at him, her body already starting to fold back into the world of sleep.

"The first person to return from touching the front door gets to decide what we do. If I win, we have sex. If you win, we have sleepy sex."

Hermione could only continue to stare, a little more blankly this time as she struggled to process the proposition Draco had just presented her with. Not that she was contemplating even getting out of bed to race him; she was far too gone and had no energy left to race the bastard and beat him at his own game. Instead, after another moments worth of blank consideration, she sighed and laid back down, pulling the quilt up over her head. Behind her, there was a shift in the weight on the bed, followed by the sound of footfalls out of the room and down the hallway outside.

Again Hermione started drifting off. Her eyes closing slowly as she tried to fully succumb to the pull of sleep before her man decided to wake her again. Maybe this time he would get the clue.

Something landed heavily on the bed behind her, jarring her once more awake, her body bouncing in the displacement of the bed. The quilt was ripped off of her.

"I won! Come on 'Mione. I won." He nudged her twice.

Hermione desperately tried to hold back the burning anger building as a response to the annoyance and the sleep depravation. Her fists clenched tightly as she fought the response to hit him. Hit him for his stupidity and horniness at the most inappropriate times.

But her lack of verbal response meant Draco continued to try and gain some sort of reaction.

"I know; how about you just lay there and – "

She snapped. She couldn't stand him at the moment. Another word or gesture from him at this very moment in time would mean the end of his very existence.

In a flash Hermione was sitting up in bed her wand pointed at him and Draco found himself floating out of the room. As soon as he'd passed the doorway, Hermione ungraciously cancelled the spell and had the door slamming closed behind him. His head and rear end throbbed with the indignant landing he'd received.

He groaned and rubbed the back of his head as he leaned his head back and stared up at the closed door.

Sighing, he reached up and rapped on the door twice. "'Mione…I'm sorry." He called through the door.

The door opened sharply and Draco was hit with his pillow and a blanket. The door slammed closed again.

This time Draco let out a loud groan, knowing just how long this night had suddenly gotten. Their couch was not a couch for falling comfortably asleep on.

* * *

Hermione gently closed the door to the apartment and dropped her head to rest on the wood.

Finally, it was over. After so many hours working tirelessly to develop the proposed bill for the wolfsbane potion, Hermione and her team had finally presented it and now they could only wait for the final verdict on the future of their bill. Due to the fact that a few key members of the wizengamot personally knew members of the lycanthrope community, Hermione hoped they could understand the amount of relief people suffering from the bite would experience should the bill pass and therefore be more inclined to fight for its passing.

The apartment behind her was quiet. Terribly so, even though she knew Draco would be home at this time of the day. However, after last night's episode, she had an inkling that Draco was rather put out because he'd been forced to sleep on the couch. That morning when Hermione had gotten up and come downstairs to gather her breakfast before she left, Draco had been laying on the couch, his feet dangling off the end. One arm had been thrown lazily over his face, the other across his bare chest, the blanket haphazardly tossed across his legs.

And still, Hermione knew he was awake. Pointedly ignoring her too.

Miffed, as one might say, at his rather shocking and undignified exit from their bedroom in the very wee hours of the morning.

Dropping her bags carelessly by the door and slipping her heels off one by one as she moved into the living area of the apartment, Hermione stopped at the end of the hall and took in the scene before her.

Draco was sitting on the large window seat at the end of the room, reading a book while Crookshanks soaked up the warmth of the remaining sunlight filtering through the window and curtains at Draco's feet.

"Hey." She greeted him, sending out feelers for his mood and general attitude towards her at the moment.

He didn't respond and Hermione knew immediately he was still holding his grudge. She sighed and drifted over to his side, resting against the wall beside where his head rested. Gently she ran her hands through his hair, bending down to kiss the top of his head sweetly. "Don't I get a 'welcome home'?" She asked him.

He shifted his legs to stand up, towering over her frame, retaining his disinterest in her. "Don't I get to sleep in my own bed?" he retorted, moving around her to seat himself on the very couch he'd slept on the night before. With a careless shrug he picked up the remote for the tv and switched it on.

Hermione rolled her eyes towards Draco as she patted Crookshanks. He returned her look with a pointed one of his own as if to say 'well he's a boy, what do you expect for denying him sex and kicking him out of his bed?'

Hermione watched Draco for a moment, considering ways in which she could jar him out of his mood.

An idea hit and with a soft impish smile she walked over and straddled Draco's lap.

He frowned at her, his mouth twisting in distaste before he leaned around her to continue watching the television program. Hermione took the fact that he hadn't pushed her off of him as a good sign and so wiggled closer to him, seating herself comfortably atop his crotch.

Below her, Hermione felt something shift and her smile turned into a grin. She wiggled again, her arms moving to wrap themselves around his neck.

And while Draco continued to ignore her, Hermione leaned in and gave him a heated kiss.

Beneath her, she could feel Draco struggling to ignore her. His body tensed up, his hands moving to rest on her arms ready to push her away. But what gave him away was her favourite part of him…well, one of many. His cock hardened perceptively, pressing eagerly at her core above. Hungrily she ground down on him eliciting a grunt from him that he tried to suppress.

Hermione drew back and stared at him yet he refused to make eye contact.

"Draco…" she started to whine, her grin still on full display. "Draco I'm horny."

If her boyfriend hadn't been tense before he was now. Rock solid, Hermione figured and in more ways than one.

Her fingers tangled in the soft blonde locks at the nape of his neck, softly massaging the base of his head. When he didn't respond Hermione decided to pick up the game.

"Don't you want me?" she cooed, nibbling at the corner of his mouth. "I've been wanting this for the past week and now that I'm free for the next week…you don't want to?"

He looked at her then, eyes molten steel, igniting her insides. "Last night you kicked me out." He reminded her with a hint of annoyance.

Hermione laughed humorously, fingers twisting on the ends of his hair. "Please Draco, you knew that was the only possible result when you continued to annoy me."

"I slept on the couch." He reminded her again, this time hit tone was held a hint of petulance.

"Aww…you poor baby." Hermione teased with a laugh. "How did you ever survive?"

He growled and twisted them, pinning her to the couch underneath his body. His mouth hovered over hers, his breath fanning out over her lips, his eyes pinning hers to his gaze. "You're a witch." He finally muttered.

"No kidding." Hermione managed with cheek before her mouth was covered and she was finally, finally getting some action. His mouth opened over hers, his tongue licking along her top lip, following its line onto the bottom before using his teeth to tease her mouth open. His body fell upon hers, his hips lining up deliciously above her core, where he thrust roughly once, twice, three times and elicited a whine of impatience from his girlfriend.

"Don't tease." She muttered, breaking away from his mouth to tell him. Draco smirked before he resumed his plundering, taking her lips, her mouth for all of its worth, making love to it as he mimicked his movements of his hips. His tongue thrust into her mouth as his hips rocked between her legs, friction igniting heat and need, fierce as an all consuming power. She whimpered into his mouth, her hands scratching down his back to his pants, bypassing his top completely in need to shuck him of all lower clothing and getting him inside her as soon as possible.

She tugged roughly at his pants, her fingers hastening to undo his belt buckle. Undoing the belt, ripping open the buttons and pushing the material off his hips and as far down as she could reach, before she was blindly clawing at the skin on the underside of his buttocks.

And then he was everywhere at once; as if someone had flicked a switch from medium to high. His hands scattered, framed, felt, squeezed every inch of her, playing favourites with her breasts even as she struggled to remove his top. He budged long enough to allow the shirt to be pulled over his head before returning to her own top and stripping that from her body.

She giggled at the rush; the fever of the moment, the desperation and the need that coursed through them both, building and building with every kiss, every touch, lick, scratch, moan…grind.

Taking her bared nipple into his mouth, Draco rolled it with his tongue, sensually igniting the tiny nerve endings in the bud and bringing the sensations that splintered through her to fever pitch.

"Oh please Draco. Please." She moaned, her hands moving to grip his upper arms with a strength that demanded, that ordered he follow through to answer her call immediately.

"But I'm having so much fun reacquainting myself with these lovely ladies." He drew back and grinned down at her breasts with a hungry leer. "And I have missed you ladies so much." He spoke to them, leaning down to run his tongue along the underside of her other breast.

The air caught in her throat, her nails dug in deep. She trembled.

His hand shot down to her panties, pushing aside the material covering her crotch and plunging three fingers in without preamble. Hermione's hips shot off the couch, pushing high, pressing into Draco's own looming body above. A squeal broke free from her mouth, his fingers locating her g-spot with pinpoint accuracy and skimming his nails over it upon every pass. His thumb twisted to press down on her clit, rubbing it in time to his fingers.

"Draco…" she whined, squirming beneath him, her voice an odd mix of squealing and pleading. "Need you. Now. Please…oh dear merlin, please do it now."

Above her, Draco's lips twisted into his horribly confident and smug smirk. "I want to savour you now that I can finally have you." He murmured, pressing an open mouthed kiss to her lips, his tongue twisting erotically with her own.

She groaned as his fingers danced over a particularly sensitive spot within her, baring her hips down on the invading fingers to gain the friction, the momentum she wanted.

"Savour later." She told him shortly, her body arching again as delicious pleasure rocketed through her. "Your dick. In me. Now." She ordered, grasping his butt once more and snapping his hips forward to have his engorged member press intimately against her clit.

Grinning, Draco removed his hand. "Yes ma'm." He said, seconds before he rammed himself in her. Unprepared for the heat that suffocated him, captured him, his grinning face broke as he moaned lowly. Hermione's mouth opened in an 'O' as her torso arched from the torrent of fire that speared up her spine from his abrupt entrance, her body coming alive and greedy within seconds. His body, his hips snapped backwards and forwards, his cock pulling out into the cold air, rushing back into molten heat. The sight below him was exquisite, not only the sight of their joining, but of her face, her eyes going opaque with sheer enjoyment and pleasure that only he could provide.

"Draco…" She gasped his name as her body shuddered, the power, the energy, the pressure building so tightly, compounding in on itself. Her breath became hoarse as she struggled to draw air in, her throat, her lungs refusing to work as the pleasure soared and locked her body up.

He stared down at her, sweat beading along his forehead as he continued his powerful thrusts. Seeking her mouth, seeking further contact, he dropped his head and covered her lips, his tongue diving into her mouth, plunging, taking, giving as much as his dick was down below.

And then he could feel it. He could feel it coming, not only for her, but for him as well. The pressure, the tension building steadily at the core of him, while the fiery silken walls of her canal hugged him tighter, fluttering around him as he continued to thrust and withdraw, his pace stuttering as his energy started to come to a pinnacle.

"Draco…Draco…please…" she gasped, her fingers tightening viciously around his shoulders.

Wanting that something extra, that last push, he dropped his hand between their bodies and pressed down on her clit.

She exploded, her body shattering. She cried out, her voice cracking on the end as she verbally released the pleasure that shook her completely. Eyes seemed to roll back in her head, Hermione's body suddenly collapsing into the couch beneath her, fatigued beyond measure.

Draco's body fell upon her, his chest rising and falling on her own, forcing her to draw on more energy to push him slightly off and to the side of her. His head fell into the crook of her neck, his hot breath stirring up further moisture on her skin, but she didn't have the energy to care.

She breathed deep, feeling her heart start to slow as the tingling pleasure drifted away minutes later. Her head rolled back to let her mouth brush Draco's ear.

"Happy now?" she breathed.

Draco raised his head slightly, revealing the familiar smirk she had become to love him for. "Are you?"

Hermione giggled and raised her head to gift him a brief kiss.

Draco returned it, deepening it, drawing it out until they had to separate for air.

But then he grinned. "So…does this mean I get to sleep in bed tonight?"

* * *

A/N: this drabble is based off of a friend of a friend's experience. Thought it was funny, if slightly annoying. Let me know if you liked it or not!


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of a truck pulling up outside her house had her ears pricking in interest, her attention flickering from the book in her hands to the window through which the sound filters. In an instant her mind started churning over the possible reasons for the presence of a truck on her quiet suburban street but it was the screech of a fence opening that had her scrambling to remove the sheets from their tangle around her legs and jumping over to her window.

Conscious enough to slow herself down before she yanked the curtains open with too much force and draw attention to herself, Hermione stopped and took a deep breath before raising her hand to hook a finger around the edge of the fabric. Inching it open, she peered through to survey the action.

And cursed the truck for obstructing her view.

One foot rubbed the other, her weight shifted as she returned it to the floor and took off out of her room, headed for the front room and a better viewing position for her insatiable curiosity.

Still miffed that the house she had so coveted had been snapped up by her childhood nemesis, Hermione still couldn't help but be curious to know what he was doing to a backyard that was already so well landscaped. Having been overbid on the house, Hermione had been forced to take second best: the house on the opposite side of the street, one that looked into the backyard of her dream house. His house.

Stretching, Hermione craned her neck in an attempt to peer over the top of the truck and into the backyard. Over the passed few days, the sounds of jack hammering had echoed from the yard and had Hermione's interest piqued. Why would he be using a muggle method when a simple swish and flick would solve things.

Instead she watched the proceedings with vague interest, the slow procession of unloading the massive bin onto the tiny patch of grass in the backyard an incredible job of patience and logic. Briefly, she pondered whether she would be quick enough to dart to the toilet and make it back in time, but dismissed that thought post haste when she recognised the truck driver had finished his business and was getting back into the cabin.

A tap to the horn, a wave out the window and finally the machine pulled away, leaving Hermione with an unobstructed view of the backyard.

Only, that wasn't what had her attention.

It was the well toned, well hardened physique of the shirtless man closing the gates.

Her mouth went dry, her throat swallowing down everything in one go as her curiosity fled her mind in an instant. Heart taking off like a hound to a fox, she no longer cared about the backyard, all that became her world was maintaining visual contact with this…these…that _body_.

She wanted it in an instant. Desired the chance to touch, to be free to roam and feel what was undoubtedly hard muscle under smooth, hairless skin. She imagined herself running her fingers over that chest, of studying every line and dip of the muscles. She wanted its weight against her, heavy against her own chest, crushing her as strong arms banded around her, lithe steady hips pumping against and into her own. Her body shuddered as the images exploded in her mind, tingles shooting along every nerve channel, into every nerve ending bringing to life long faded desires in her career focused world.

Standing precariously close to the edge, Hermione forced her mind onto a different path of thought. Instead, it flooded with all the words she could think of to describe the sight: toned, defined, chiseled, lick-able, tasty, scrumptious. But it was the single word which followed, that had her mind pausing, her eyes widening and her heart thumping loud and clear.

Pale.

So far her eyes had managed to stay attached to the torso, where the lines and muscles twisted and turned in such a sinuous dance that one could remain enraptured for the rest of their life. The word 'pale' managed to break through, sparking to life the question and the impossible answer to who indeed had this god-like physique.

Beating the desire to let her eyes linger on the body, Hermione forced them to dart up and identify the individual.

Oh dear, oh merlin. Why him? Why now?

She knew, of course, that the body belonged to him. It was the only logical choice in the situation. Who else would oversee the arrival and placement of a skip bin into his own backyard?

Even as the man, him, he, Malfoy turned one last time to face her, pulling the fence closed and removing himself from sight, Hermione fell back against the couch she'd positioned in the corner of the room, her body pulsing as her mind raced with scorn for her terribly female response. Yet all that she could focus on, standing tall before her voice of sense, the voice of a stern outspoken feminist who found shameless girly acts of staring abhorrent, was the incredibly fantasy worthy chest of her nemesis.

Life wasn't fair.

Tossing sense for sensation, body stuck on the scene she had just witnessed, Hermione scrambled to rid herself of her pants. Her hand shot down to cover herself, finger dipping in amongst the skin to find fresh warm wetness seeping readily from her core. A swipe, a drag and she only had to graze her bud, her clit to have her back arching in anticipation. Her breath hitched as she saw him come towards her, eyes hungry and held to ransom by the pounding lust he felt for her, for the scene his eyes feasted upon. Groaning, she let him collapse on her, naked chest pressed heavily against her singlet cover breasts, nipples puckered for the taking. Scrambling, desperate for skin on skin, she rid herself of her top, hands grasping her breasts, pulling, tugging, rolling.

His mouth fell upon hers, harsh and unforgiving as he took his fill, demanding more and taking it. His hands, so rough and strong grasped her hips without preamble dragging her in one swift move to align himself directly beneath her. One glance, one final take and he pierced her.

He was thick, so hard, so terribly hard and she so full. Burdened by his body, her own had no way out, no way to fight the pleasure that screamed throughout a body being quickly reduced to jelly. With her hands she clasped his shoulder's tightly in agony, breathless pants echoing the sharp slap of skin. His groan, her groan, melded as she sought out his mouth, his power. She laid back and allowed him to take his fill, to take her, to please her. It was fast, it was chaotic, erratic and…over before it began.

The edge came too quick, too fast and without warning. One thrust and she was smouldering in a fiery pit of pleasure and the next she was screaming in joyous rapture.

And then, when she finally brought herself around and opened her eyes, it was shame she felt.

Removing her hand from her dripping feminine core, Hermione stared blankly at her moistened fingers.

No. Life wasn't fair.

* * *

A/N: So...anyone still there?

This is just a quick update, something that sorta came to me through real life experience of finding myself staring at the drool worthy chest of my childhood crush and going completely blank...(so freaking typical!)... But its there, its up. If there are errors of any kind, sorry, but this has become my escape from UNI assignments that have due dates only a few days apart (and even two on one day!) So forgive me and the mental loss...or maybe that was to blame for that moment...anyway, hope you enjoyed!


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